fort, turn our Misfortunes to our Advantage, make them meritorious, or at least wipe out our Offences; let us receive without Murmuring what comes from the Hand of God, and let us not oppose our Will to his. Adieu. I give you Advice which could I myself follow, I should be happy.

:

LETTER II.

HELOISE to ABELAR D.

The foregoing Letter would probably not have produced any others, if it had been delivered to the Person to whom it was directed; but falling by Accident into Heloise's Hands, who knew the Character, she opened it, and read it; and, by that means, her former. Passion being awakened, she immediately fet herself to write to her Husband, as follows.

* To her Lord, her Father, her Husband, her Brother; bis Servant, bis Child, his Wife, his Sister, and to express all that is Humble, Respectful, and Loving, to her Abelard Heloise writes this.

A

Consolatory Letter of yours to a Friend, happened some Days since to fall into my Hands; my Knowledge of the Character, and my Love of the Hand, foon gave me the Curiosity to open it: In Justification of the Liberty I took, I flattered myself I might claim a Sovereign Privilege

* Domino fuo, imo Patri; Conjugi fuo, imo fratri; Ancilla fua, imo filia; ipfius Uxor, imo Soror; Abælardo Heloissa, &c, Abel. Oper,

i

over every Thing which came from you : Nor was I scrupulous to break through the Rules of good Breeding, when it was to hear News of AbeJard: But how dear did my Curiofity cost me ? What Disturbance did it occafion? And how was I furprized to find the whole Letter filled with a particular and melancholy Account of our Misfortunes? I met with my Name a hundred Times; I never saw it without Fear; some heavy Calamity always followed it: I saw yours too, equally unhappy. These mournful, but dear Remembrances, put my Spirits into such a violent Motion, that I thought it was too much to offer Comfort to a Friend for a few flight Disgraces, by such extraordinary Means as the Representation of our Sufferings and Revolutions. What Reflections did I not make? I began to confider the whole afresh, and perceived myself pressed with the fame Weight of Grief as when we first began to be miferable. Though Length of Time ought to have closed up my Wounds, yet the feeing them described by your Hand was sufficient to make them all open and bleed afresh. Nothing can ever blot from my Memory what you have fuffered in Defence of your Writings. I cannot help thinking of the rancorous Malice of Alberic and Lotulf. A cruel Uncle, and an injured Lover, will be always present to my aking Sight. I shall never forget what Enemies your Learning, and what Envy your Glory raised against you. I shall never forget your Reputation, so justly acquired, torn to pieces, and blasted by the inexorable Cruelty of halflearned Pretenders to Science. Was not your Treatise of Divinity condemned to be burnt ? Were you not threatned with perpetual Imprisonment? In vain you urged in your Defence, that your Enemies imposed on you Opinions quite different from your Meaning: In vain you condemned those Opinions; all was of no Effect towards your Juftification; 'twas refolved you should be a Heretick. What did not those two false Prophets * accuse you of, who declaimed so severely against you before the Council of Sens ? What Scandals were vented on occafion of the Name Paraclete given to your Chapel ? What a Storm was raised against you by the treacherous Monks, when you did them the Honour to be called their Brother? This History of our numerous Misfortunes, related in so true and moving a Manner, made my Heart bleed within me: My Tears, which I could not restrain, have blotted half your Letter; I wish they had effaced the whole, and that I had returned it to you in that Condition: I should then have been satisfied with the little Time I kept it; but it was demanded of me too foon.

I must confess I was much eafier in my Mind before I read your Letter. Sure all the Misfortunes of Lovers are conveyed to them through their Eyes. Upon reading your Letter, I felt all mine mine renewed. I reproached myself for having been so long without venting my Sorrows, when the Rage of our unrelenting Enemies still burns with the same Fury. Since Length of Time, which difarms the strongest Hatred, seems but to aggravate theirs; fince it is decreed that your Virtue shail be perfecuted 'till it takes refuge in the Grave, and even beyond that, your Ashes perhaps will not be fuffered to reft in Peace; Let me always meditate on your Calamities, let me publish them through all the World, if possible, to shame an Age that has not known how to value you. I will spare no one, fince no one would interest himfelf to protect you, and your Enemies are never weary of oppressing your Innocence. Alas! my Memory is perpetually filled with bitter Remembrances of past Evils, and are there more to be feared still? Shall my Abelard be never mentioned without Tears? Shall the dear Name be never spoken but with Sighs? Observe, I beseech you, to what a wretched Condition you have reduced me: Sad, afflicted, without any possible Comfort, unless it proceed from you. Be not then unkind, nor deny me, I beg you, that little Relief which you only can give. Let me have a faithful Account of all that concerns you. I would know every Thing, be it ever so unfortunate. Perhaps, by mingling my Sighs with yours, I may make your Sufferings less; if that Observation be true, that all Sorrows divided are made lighter,

Tell